Anarchy
by insertcleverandwittytitlehere
Summary: Werewolf packs, as you might know, have a pecking order in place, with the Alpha always leading the pack. So what happens, then, when one wolf threatens mutiny?


**A/N: **This is the Chudley Cannons Captain checking in for Season 7 Round 6 of the QLFC.

**Prompt: **Monarchy. Write about Wizarding Royalty. (This can be interpreted however you like—a wizarding version of the royal family, a person/family that is revered as if they were royal, etc.)

So I have taken this prompt to mean "hierarchy" and "class" within a group of individuals. Wolves, as you might know, have a pecking order in place, with the Alpha leading the pack. So what happens, then, when one wolf threatens mutiny?

**Words (before A/N): **2,087 words

* * *

Rain spattered against the roof of the Hog's Head as Jax Donovan slipped through its front door. Inside, he brushed the excess water from his collar and wiped his boots across the already-mud slicked welcome mat. His dark eyes scanned the pub.

_If buildings could talk,_ he thought, _this one would weep_. Dirty, dim, derelict. He couldn't decide on the best word to describe this dive bar he'd been summoned to.

It definitely started with a D, though. He could feel the word pressing against the tip of his tongue, could feel it building from a whisper to a roar inside his brain.

Thunder rumbled across the night sky, shaking the rafters above. Jax watched as sawdust drifted down from the pub's wooden frame, falling as gently as snow. The word he'd been looking for vanished.

In the back of the pub sat members of his pack. They were hunched together so closely, he couldn't tell where one man ended and the other began. Jax slipped past the barkeep, his eyes cast to the dirty floor.

_Dreary might work_, he thought.

His boots made a loud thumpingnoise as he approached, each footfall a reminder of how empty this damnable place was.

_No, that's not it either._

"Where's ya head, boy?"

Jax looked up, a smirk already playing at his lips. Maxwell Greeves was staring right into his face. He was a large man, with pale grey eyes that looked almost lifeless under the dim lighting of the Hog's Head. He had long silver hair that he kept tied back in a ponytail and a scruffy beard he refused to manage. The others at the table kept their heads down, unwilling to engage.

But Greeves didn't frighten Jax like he did the others.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he quipped, pulling an empty chair from a neighboring table. Jax twirled it on one leg, letting it land with its back toward his pack. He straddled it, his arms resting across the top, his chin falling lazily to his hands.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of my summons?" he asked, his mind still running through a laundry list of D words… _dreadful, deranged, devilish. _

_No, no, and no, _he thought.

"You're late."

Jax blinked. He had expected to be reprimanded, of course, but he expected it from Greeves who outranked him and everyone else at their table. But it wasn't Greeves who had spoken.

"What's it to you, _pup_?" Jax asked through gritted teeth. He didn't much care for the youngest member of their pack, not after what the bloody fool did. Jax's upper lip twitched, annoyance bubbling in his throat. He willed himself not to jump the kid, because Greeves was here, after all, and Jax always did what Greeves wanted.

Instead, he stared into the pup's face. _Daring, dangerous, dumb._

"We were here on time." The pup smiled wickedly, his grotesque features exaggerated by the flickering candlelight. "We've already come to a decision."

_Despicable, dire, dead._

"Yeah, well," Jax said, "I had a hard time of it gettin' away from Orpheous. He's—aware we're not there."

The pup's eyes darkened. Jax smirked. Orpheous wasn't too fond of the boy as of late, and Jax could only assume the feelings were mutual.

Of course, Orpheous was getting soft in his old age. At least, that's what Jax thought. When the pack had found out that their latest member, Fenrir Greyback, had been captured by the Ministry of Magic after being accused of attacking Muggle children, they begged for expulsion.

A pack of werewolves as big as theirs didn't need the attention.

But Orpheous said any member that was once a brother would always remain a brother. He demoted the pup to Omega—a dishonor Jax wouldn't even wish on his worst enemies. But what the Alpha said was law.

The Omega, for what it was worth, took the brunt of the packs' frustrations. Greyback was their scapegoat, the one who would be sacrificed if it came down to it.

But having an Omega was like having a disease—no one wants it there, but you can't simply cast it out. It had to be removed with time and diligence.

_Diligence_, mused Jax. That wasn't the word he was looking for either.

He turned his attention toward Greeves. "So, what is it then?"

A crack of lightning lit up the older werewolf's face. Each of his scars shone pale white across his skin, and for a moment, Jax felt the need to cower, to bow his head, to obey. Greeves' face said only one thing.

_Defiance._

"Not my meeting," Greeves sat back, his eyes still watching Jax closely. He did not speak.

Jax's stomach knotted. His black eyes fell back to the pup.

_Deranged, dangerous_, thought Jax. _Dear Merlin._ Even without the full moon, Greyback looked _decidedly _wolfish.

"Reckon you're wonderin' what a little _pup _like me could possibly have to say," drawled Greyback, clearly delighted by the attention. "'Specially since it's worth even our Zeta holdin' his tongue."

"Yeah," Jax wet his lips, "you could say that."

He could feel everyone's eyes on him. The faces of the others—Peter Howell, Norwick Button, Taddy O'Shae, Bartley Crul—they all started to fade and mold together like they weren't even there anymore.

Those four had been Jax's brothers. His _true _brothers. He was closer to them than any of the others in his pack, because they were Eta together—the pack's enforcers, its Warriors. Orpheus had named them Eta after they saved the pack's Gamma wolf from certain death at the hands of deranged wizards.

But then Greyback pulled his little stunt, and Jax's brothers had fallen back to Subordinates. All because they tried to help him cover it up from the Ministry. From what Jax heard, Greyback pretended to be a Muggle farmer who was pulled in for questioning by mistake. The others testified as witnesses, ensuring Greyback's freedom.

A growl escaped Jax's lips.

"What is it then?" he spat. _Deplorable_, his mind raced. _What Greyback did. Sickening. Dastardly. _

"Donovan, we want you here." It was Button, ever the mediator.

"We do," added O'Shae, but he couldn't look Jax in the face. Before the hearing at the Ministry, Jax and O'Shae had gotten into it good, even transforming without the call of the full moon. Jax had nearly ripped O'Shae's ear clean off, the anger pulsing out of him in waves.

_How could they turn the other cheek? How could they forget what it was like to be young and frightened? Bitten? Damned?!_

"Enough of the niceties, Taddy," Jax said. "If it ain't you, Greeves, that's got me here, then out with it so I can leave."

"There's a wizard who needs our help," said Greyback. "His name is Lord Voldemort, and he's got this plan to help us rise."

"Rise?"

"To power."

Jax couldn't stop his eyebrow from raising. _Voldemort_. He'd heard that name circling around for a few months now, but that didn't mean much. Besides, if he was a wizard, why would he even care about them?

Jax snickered, but no one else moved.

"Right," he straightened up, "some nobody wizard with a nickname is gonna get us into power? Okay, fine. I'll bite. How?" Jax leaned forward again, his eyes raking over the blank faces of his companions. Only Greeves looked mildly amused with him, while Greyback continued to smile viciously.

"Don't matter _how_, pup, just when."

Jax was about to take another dig at Greyback, especially for the pup insult, but suddenly, Crul grabbed at Jax's hand, his round face pressing in toward him. "We's gonna get a new one, Jaxxy!" he crooned. "We's gonna get a new Alpha!"

Jax's heart seized in his throat. "What?"

At the same time, Greyback snarled, "Idiot!" while Button yanked Crul to his feet. In a manner of seconds, the two had disappeared into the night, the door of the Hog's Head slamming shut behind him.

"He didn't mean—what Bartley _meant _to say—he doesn't, you know how he gets, Jax," Peter tried to bring the room back, but it was too late. Jax stared wild-eyed at Peter and O'Shae. Any explanation they may have had didn't really matter; it was out there now, why they had come here without permission from the Alpha.

This was why Orpheus had warned him not to go.

"That's… we… the code?" was all Jax could manage.

Slamming his fist against the table, Greeves pushed his chair back, his pale eyes wild. Jax had another urge to cower before his commander.

"Did Orpheus stick to code when one of our own was put on trial," Greeves spoke in a whisper, his words whistling through his teeth. Each new sentence was punctuated by another punch to the table. "Did he stick to code when I begged him not to take away the best damn warriors I'd ever seen? Did he do what was right for the good of the pack? Or did he do what he thought would get those _wizards _to respect us when we all _know _that will never happen."

The table jumped beneath his fist. Jax gulped.

"The Dark Lord promises us free rein. To do what we want when we want," Greyback said calmly.

"You mean anarchy," Jax spat, but he couldn't take his eyes off Greeves. "You're okay with this? Werewolf packs—we follow rank, Max. We're just going to throw it all out like that? After everything we've built?"

Jax's heart pounded harder and harder with each word. He never called Greeves by his first name, not unless it was serious. And this _was _serious, wasn't it?

Removing Orpheus? For some wizard who calls himself a Dark Lord? It went against everything in the werewolf coda.

Unity. Loyalty. Kinship. They had a pecking order, a system, for a reason. It kept them sane during the full moon. It protected them from outsiders and others who just didn't understand. The pack was a place for lycanthropes to exist. Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and the rest.

Greeves was their Zeta, their War General. Sixth in line. If he was here even thinking about taking down Orpheus, did that mean he was willing to kill the others, too?

Jax looked into Greeves' eyes again, and he nearly lost his balance.

Of course this is what he wanted. And they needed Jax.

His four brothers, Greeves, and Greyback. They would be top rank. And Jax, an Eta, would be seventh. They needed an enforcer, someone who could keep the others in line.

After all, that was his role. He was a sworn fighter for the pack. His loyalty meant their collective safety. If the Warriors backed mutiny, then the whole pack would, too.

Air caught in Jax's throat. The word finally hit him like a silver bullet.

_Desperate_. That's how he'd describe the Hog's Head. It made him feel _desperate._

"You're with us, or you're not, Donovan. And I won't hesitate," Greeves growled.

The remaining members of the pack stood and left, one by one until only Jax remained.

He looked around, his eyes barely processing anything inside the Hog's Head. Even the barkeep blurred into nothing.

Letting go of the pub was easy. Jax trained his ears on the retreating wolves outside, could hear their boots squelching in the mud as they navigated their way out of Hogsmeade. He waited another fifteen minutes or so before he stood and exited.

Jax flipped up his collar against the rain, pulling on the lapels of his jacket to bring it closer to his body. Coming in, he had transformed, trotting through the mucky forest, his mind clear. Tonight, though, he'd walk home as a man.

He needed to think.

It had all happened too quickly, hadn't it? This plan of theirs. He almost wished Crul hadn't ruined it by spilling the ending. Jax wanted to know more, to understand the details of this Lord Voldemort.

That's what he would have to do—find out more. When would they strike and how would they do it? Who else would they tell?

A pull just below his navel stopped Jax in his tracks. The rain had lifted to a drizzle, and above him, the almost-full moon was staring, beckoning him in with her siren's call.

He swallowed. He'd find out what Greyback was planning. Then he'd tell Orpheous, no matter the cost.

Because that's what an Eta did. He remained loyal to the Alpha.

He remained loyal to the pack.


End file.
